Chapter 9 - Elisse #2
I almost smiled, but before I could respond, I felt his presence, and I turned around to find Fyodor standing at the edge of the hallway, barefoot, hair slightly disheveled, eyes sharp despite the sleep he must have had. He took in the scene in one glance.
“Anya.”
“Fyodor,” she replied calmly.
His gaze shifted to me, but remained unreadable.
“You should have rested,” he said.
“I wasn’t aware this was a vacation.”
His jaw tightened faintly, and Anya cleared her throat.
“I am already done with cleaning and breakfast, so I will head out,” she said softly.
I could see she wanted to leave the two of us alone, and I didn’t blame her, not with the tension brewing between the two of us. She moved around us quietly, the only warmth in a room that felt charged, and I didn’t wait. The moment she disappeared down the hall, I turned fully to him.
“What exactly do you think happens next?” I demanded, but he didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he walked into the kitchen and poured himself coffee instead, taking another mug to pour some for me as well. The calmness of it nearly sent me over the edge, but I let him place a steaming mug before me.
“I asked you something.”
“And I heard you.”
“Then answer.”
He set his own mug down and leaned against the counter.
“We present a united front just like I told you last night.”
I laughed, sharp and incredulous.
“To whom?”
“To everyone.”
“My family will never accept this.”
“They don’t have to accept it.”
“They will retaliate.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re prepared for that?”
“Yes.”
The certainty in his voice infuriated me.
“You think this protects me?” I demanded.
“It does.”
“No, it doesn’t. It paints a target on both of us.”
“It consolidates power.”
“You’re unbelievable. You don’t get to decide that this is protection, and you don’t get to decide that my life is better tied to yours than free.”
“You weren’t free,” he said quietly.
The words hit harder than I expected.
“I was not a pawn.”
“You were about to be.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
Silence crackled between us.
“My brothers will not tolerate this,” I continued. “They will see this as aggression, and they will come after you the moment they find out I am gone.”
“It is aggression, and they will be right in coming after me.”
I stared at him.
“You’re admitting that?”
“Yes.”
“So why did you even do something so stupid when you know it can blow up in your face and make everything worse?
“Elisse, I am aware that what I have done wasn’t entirely strategic.”
My heart beat harder. “Explain yourself.”
“The truth is that I haven’t forgotten you since the masquerade.
Since the morning you got up, smiled at me, and decided to walk out on me, I haven’t forgotten you.
I could have followed orders, and I could have used you and broken you just the way Kliment wanted, but I didn’t do any of that. I couldn’t do any of that.”
“So you married me instead.”
“Yes.”
“That’s not better.”
“It is.”
“Because you somehow decided that you wanted me?” I demanded.
“Yes. I didn’t somehow decide it, Elisse. I do want you.”
The bluntness of his admission stole my breath.
“You don’t get to want me,” I snapped.
“I already do.”
Rage flooded me so fast it felt like heat under my skin.
“You are nothing but arrogant, selfish, and self-centered, and you cannot think about anyone but yourself.” I shoved him, but he didn’t budge. “You think just because you couldn’t forget me that justifies this?”
“No. But for me, it wasn’t just about war. It was also about you.”
“That doesn’t make it romantic.”
“It wasn’t meant to.”
I shoved him again, harder this time, but he caught my wrists easily.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I demanded. “Tell you the truth?”
“Don’t reduce this to impulse.”
“That’s exactly what it is.”
“It’s not.”
“You met me once, you slept with me once, and somehow you decided that it was enough to bind me to you legally? Bind me to you without my consent? Bind me to you without telling me the truth about your identity and the truth behind your intentions? How is any of it fair?”
“It’s not.”
The fury inside me snapped, and I wrenched one hand free and struck him across the chest, but he caught me again, this time pulling me closer instead of pushing me back.
“You don’t own me,” I hissed.
“I know.”
“Then stop acting like you do.”
His grip tightened slightly without being painful.
“You think I did this lightly?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t care how you did it.”
“You think I wanted war accelerated?”
“You accelerated it.”
“Yes.”
“For me?”
“Yes.”
The admission silenced me for half a second, but anger surged again. His honesty disarmed and infuriated me simultaneously.
“I was selfish,” he continued. “I did not want you in anyone else’s hands and the only way to ensure that was marriage and making you mine legally.”
My heart pounded.
“That’s not protection,” I said. “That’s possession.”
“Call it what you want.”
“It’s manipulation.”
“It’s reality.”
“No. Reality would have been giving me a choice, but you stripped me of that very right.” He went still, his grip loosening slightly. “Hear and understand me clearly. I wanted you. Past tense. That does not give you ownership over me or my choices.”
“I don’t want ownership. Never wanted it,” he said quietly.
“Then what do you want?”
“You.” The word was uttered with a certainty that made my stomach flip in a way I despised, and I shoved at him again. Harder this time, but this time he even let me. I stepped back from him, my chest heaving with quite exertion.
“You’re just a man who couldn’t separate desire from strategy.”
His eyes darkened slightly. “It wasn’t just desire.”
“Please just leave me alone. I want nothing to do with you, and I don’t even want to see your face. I know you have me trapped inside this penthouse, but it is only a matter of time before my family finds me. Until then, stay the fuck away from me.”
“Elisse,” he began speaking, but I raised my hand to stop him.
“Leave me alone.”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue.
“I need space.”
He studied me for a long moment, his gaze measuring and calculating my response in the way only he knew how to do. I could see he was deciding whether pushing further would fracture something irreparably, and finally, he nodded once.
“I’ll be in the study,” he said, but I didn’t respond.
He moved past me, controlled as ever, and disappeared down the hallway, the penthouse feeling even more enormous once he was gone.
The place was empty, but I still did not feel free.
I stood there, breathing hard, and staring at the skyline, realizing I was married to Fyodor Romanov.
Not by love or choice, but by war instead.
And somewhere beneath all of that, something about this entire thing felt dangerously real, and that is exactly what I hated the most of all.